


Know Better

by ozomin



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, xingdae - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 04:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9582752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozomin/pseuds/ozomin
Summary: Jongdae craves Yixing like black bean noodles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i miss xingdae  
> enjoy!

Jongdae knows better than to whisper things into Yixing's ear on the car ride home.

Jongdae knows better than to spread his palms across the thick of Yixing's thigh, rings shining against black.

Jongdae knows better than to give Yixing that expression, that smile that pulls his lips suggestively, mischievously, curled and simpering.

Jongdae knows better than to swallow his spit and immediately wish it were something else.

And when has Jongdae not done what he's wanted?

Yixing isn't even the type to pick up hints until it's almost too late. But Jongdae doesn't mind.

Sure it can be frustrating more often than not, waiting for Yixing to squeeze his hand, or bare his throat, but the look in Yixing's eyes when he catches on--

Jongdae could write an album's worth of concerningly suggestive lyrics.

Yixing's lips are pinker than his tongue, eyes dark in the dim of their otherwise empty room. Everyone else is either in the showers, the kitchen or the main area.

No one's looking for them back here and once they hear what's going on, they definitely won't be.

Jongdae slides their lips together, slips his tongue in between the wet warmth of Yixing's spit glossy lips. Yixing's eyes are half closed, lids heavy like Jongdae's movements are lulling him into a special kind of complacency.

Jongdae humms against his lips, drags his fingers down Yixing's forearms to pull him closer.

Yixing spreads his hands across Jongdae's hips. He smiles, dimple breaking up the smooth skin of his cheek like the sun spotting the sky.

Jongdae sucks Yixing's bottom lip between his own, pulls gently with his teeth.

Gentle until it's not.

Something hot dissipates beneath Jongdae's skin, beads like sweat at the surface when Yixing growls back in his throat.

"Shit," Jongdae pulls away breathless. His hands are scrambling at Yixing's belt. Sure he could speak endlessly about the urgency but having Yixing cock in his hand is just a step closer.

Yixing's mouth falls open, his voice a low arching moan Jongdae happily licks up with a messy tongue. He strokes slow, thumb pressing against the slit with an intensity that makes Yixing choke on his breath every time.

"Jongdae," Yixing whines, he sounds childish despite the darkness in his eyes, the dominance in the rise of his cheeks, the draw of his brows.

For all intents and purposes Jongdae wants that to fuck him as soon as possible.

"Hold on," Jongdae says, sucking in a breath through his teeth. He gives his own crotch a healthy placating squeeze before dropping to his knees.

Jongdae can hear the others muffled through the walls, but they'll have to do more to deter him. After all, Jongdae can seldom think of a time where he hasn't masturbated or done other things with the sound of another member through the wall.

Yixing's dick is as pretty as his lips, sensitive beneath the crown, shiny pink head, precome glistening at the slit, and a rather visible vein that branches down the plane of his shaft before disappearing beneath the skin of his navel.

Jongdae takes the head into his mouth and sucks hard enough Yixing's hips falter in his hands.

He hisses and Jongdae has to shut his eyes to focus; to keep himself from coming right then.

Jongdae occupies the growing heat in his belly with a renewed vigor towards the cock in his hand. He begins bobbing his head, hand stroking the half he doesn't reach with his mouth. Yixing's fingers slide into Jongdae's hair, when his grip tightens, Jongdae half chokes, half moans around Yixing's cock.

Yixing's fingers only tighten further, limit Jongdae's range of movement in favor of little shifts forward, head of his cock dragging back and forth past Jongdae's bottom lip.

Jongdae digs his fingers into the thigh of Yixing's pants, pads pressing into black wash denim. Yixing's beginning to hum, low and growling, he releases his hold and frustration seeps through when Jongdae slows down, to a stop even, Yixing's cock heavy between his lips. The impatience only spurns him forward, to keep teasing despite the urge to shut his eyes like a cat preening beneath the purrs of another.

Jongdae pulls away, enough to maintain the thin spindle of saliva between his spit glossy lips and the precome shiny head of Yixing's cock. He looks up, expression a mix of wide eyed curiosity and diaphragm deep satisfaction.

Yixing is pulling him back up with uncoordinated hands in the next breath.

They kiss with ghosting mouths and rough breaths dragging across their reddened cheeks. Kisses that are less touches of lips and more puffs of breaths wilting in sweltering heat like flowers smothered in smoke.

As if following the warm echo of Jongdae's whine, Yixing lets himself be pulled to Jongdae's bed. Jongdae winds his arms around Yixing's neck and holds him close.

Jongdae kisses him quickly, sweetly before he pulls away to scramble at his own pants. He pushes them off with little grace, Yixing's hands are already slipping in against his now bare hips, thumbs pressing in along the firm muscle and bone.

Yixing's lips are wet against his throat, one of his hands curling delicately around Jongdae's cock.

Jongdae's lips flirt with the lobe of Yixing's ear, allows his own shaky moans to curl through unhindered. 

He shifts his hips back and forth with Yixing's hand, drags the head of his cock repetitively through the circle of Yixing's fingers. The sheer pleasure of it makes his eyes roll back, slows the racing in his head to a stop. He registers everything slowly. The unfocused blink of Yixing's eyes, the bead of sweat tracing the line of his throat, the hard press of his fingers. Yixing's licking his lips, sucking in a sharp breath when Jongdae cries out. Even Yixing's hand when it strays between his thighs.

His fingers are gentle and prodding between his cheeks, Jongdae settles down against the bed, mouths at the ring on his index finger and watches Yixing's brows furrow as he spreads him open. With his other hand, he reaches beneath his head for the lube and tosses it to Yixing. 

Yixing's fingers are slim and unhurried, warm. Jongdae sighs into the pillow, his hips beginning to push back in reaction. There's a low hum deep in the back of his throat, audible and almost soothing, it jostles his adam's apple. Yixing eyes the movement and looks like he wants to lick it.

Instead, he curls his fingers and Jongdae squeezes his eyes shut and a loud whine slips out.

"Hyung--" Jongdae says, chest heaving. His lids feel heavy but he's wide awake.

Yixing leans forward, buries his head against Jongdae's throat.

"Chenchen," he murmurs affectionately, rubbing his nose along the damp skin there.

"Keep going," Jongdae says breathlessly, grasping onto Yixing's arm near his shoulder, his fingers digging into his shirt sleeve.

Yixing nods as he adds another finger and if the other members haven't caught on yet, they have now. The groan that Jongdae releases is loud enough to have Yixing's fingers stall if only briefly before continuing. He chuckles into Jongdae's skin.

Jongdae grins, lips curling at the edges. Yixing shifts away from his throat to look at him, brushes the edges of Jongdae's lips with the thumb of his free hand.

"You'd think I was doing it on purpose--," Jongdae says still smiling, his mouth falls open, brows furrowing when Yixing angles his fingers just right. "You'd be half right," he smirks, teeth showing.

"Devious," Yixing murmurs in Chinese. He licks his lips.

Jongdae chuckles, he knows the word well. He tugs on Yixing's shirt once.

"Come on," his tone is immediately impatient. "I'm ready now," Jongdae watches Yixing nod with little fight before he pulls away. He sticks a hand beneath Jongdae's second pillow beside his head, fishing for the string of condoms hidden under there.

Yixing rips one away, stashes the rest back beneath the pillow then proceeds to open the one in his hand.

He rolls it on quick, even squeezes bit of lube onto his palm to coat it.

Yixing scoots forward, lips in a tight line. The sight of Jongdae laid out in front of him, bare from the waist down, peek of a firm stomach visible from the draw up of his t shirt, flushed cheeks and curiously bright eyes probably aren't doing him any favors.

Jongdae pats the bit of Yixing's thigh he can reach. He's still, for all intents and purposes, fully clothed. Only his cock visible from between the two open panels of his jeans. He spreads his thighs a bit more to make room for Yixing who leans forward with little prompting.

The sound Jongdae lets out as Yixing enters him in one go is an almost hysterical cry of relief. He's laughing a little bit too. Yixing nuzzles against his cheek, groans into the damp skin.

It's not long before the pace is steady and Jongdae really is struggling to keep his mouth shut.

It's as if he'd stopped trying altogether.

He probably did.

Yixing presses his fingers into Jongdae's hips, leans almost his full weight on him, but doesn't stop. Jongdae is sliding his hands up the back of Yixing's shirt to dig his blunt nails into the shifting muscle of his shoulder blades.

The heat builds in the beads of sweat on Yixing's forehead, in the space between each heavy breath, in the slip between tendon and skin. Jongdae's gasping into the crown of Yixing's head, his own puffs of breath on Jongdae's chest, one of his hands bunching the shirt up near Jongdae's throat.

Jongdae's head nestles back against the pillow, the line of his throat glistening, lips open and slack and brows drawn and tense. 

"Hy-hyung," Jongdae murmurs, his breath hitches sharply and a moment later come spills across his belly. Yixing presses close, come seeping through his already sweat damp shirt and mouths across Jongdae's cheek, his lips. 

"I'm close," Yixing says barely audible. Instead of feeling urgency in the pull of his hips, Yixing slows down, as if he's drawing it out. Every press of Jongdae's rim stretching around the head of his cock makes Yixing dizzy. 

Jongdae frames Yixing's face in his hands. His hair is plastered against his temple and forehead with sweat. His mouth is open and gasping, dark eyes rolling back a bit beneath his half closed lids. 

He pulls Yixing's head forward and kisses his forehead, and mirrors Yixing's own kisses across his cheeks and lips. 

Yixing comes on a ragged breath. His hips stuttering against Jongdae's. It only takes Yixing a moment to reorient himself before he slides his arms around Jongdae and rests his cheek against his chest. 

"You're pants aren't the most comfortable to sleep in Hyung," Jongdae says quietly, running his hands through Yixing's messy hair. 

Yixing squirms a little, his shoulders heave with a heavy sigh. "Manager Hyung will be here soon." he says but he makes no move to get up. 

"That's okay Lay Hyung," Jongdae says smiling, he pats Yixing on the head comfortingly, the way he would a puppy.

**Author's Note:**

> im actually not particularly happy with this piece. im rusty when it comes to writing smut i think that's apparent in this piece. and im just getting back into the swing of things.


End file.
